Coping
by Jasper.Fangirl
Summary: Jasper and Rosalie have very different ways of coping with stress, and it causes an argument.


**Coping**

I had been feeling this way for ages. It seemed there was no light at the end of the tunnel for me. I was condemned to this life, or should I say hell, and there was no escaping it. I was at a point where not even clothes, makeup, or my own reflection could help me get past the simple truth that the life I had always envisioned was never going to come to fruition. I. Hate. Everything.

I was sitting there one day, stewing in my misery, when Jasper walked over and sat next to me on the couch. _God, just leave me alone already,_ I thought, rolling my eyes. "What do you want, Scarface?" I snapped.

He drew back as if he had been physically attacked. I saw the pain in his eyes, and for a moment, I truly felt guilty. He stood up and began to walk away. "Nothing," he mumbled.

I rolled my eyes again. "Jasper, stop being so stubborn," I said, knowing that I had no reason to call him that. "What is it?"

He whirled around. He hesitated for a second, then he said, "Would you like to go hunting with me?"

I was shocked. I'd never really treated him the way he deserved to be treated. I didn't exactly know why; I really didn't hate him, it's just that there was something about him that I resented. So why was he asking me, of all people, to go hunting with him?

He felt my shock and said, "You don't have to if you'd prefer not to. I know I'm not your favorite person in the world. I just thought I'd ask."

"No, I… let's go," I said.

We started to leave, and he opened the door for me. "Thanks," I said.

"You're welcome," he replied.

We got into his car, the blue 1951 Stingray that he adored as if it were one of the children he couldn't have, and he began driving. "Where to?" he asked.

At this point, I was really confused. Why was he doing all of this for me? I gaped at him for a second. I realized how stupid I must've looked, and I said, "Why don't you choose the spot?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah…"

Our surroundings flew by us as Jasper steadily pushed his car faster. It seriously needed a tune-up, though I'm not sure that would've helped all that much. I had to hand it to him, though: there's something to be said for anyone who can keep a car in near perfect condition for 40 years. For most of the ride, we didn't say anything. Jasper, at one point, decided to break the silence. "You look nice today," he noted, looking down at my outfit, which consisted of a three-tiered bubblegum pink frilly blouse, dark jeans, and black wedges.

I knew he was trying to compliment me, but for some reason, I couldn't simply accept the compliment. I was in a really bitchy mood, and the words escaped before I could bite my tongue. "Today? You mean I don't look nice every other day?"

He appeared frustrated, but he said nothing. I couldn't bring myself to apologize verbally, so I hoped that he perceived that I was feeling a little bit sorry. Fifteen minutes passed in silence, and then we finally reached our destination. We both got out of the car, and Jasper said, "Shall we?" We dashed through the woods in search of prey.

After we had gotten our fill, we sat down next to each other on top of a fallen tree. "Jasper?"

"Yes?" he said quietly, without looking at me.

"Why did you ask me to come along with you?"

"Would you have preferred it if I hadn't?" Jasper asked.

"I guess I just don't understand," I confessed.

"What is there to understand? Can't a guy take his sister out to dinner?" Jasper joked.

"But you don't even like me," I said, confused. "Why…"

Jasper interrupted me before I got a chance to finish my sentence. "What do you mean, I don't like you?"

"I can't think of anyone who would be capable of liking me if I said all of the mean things to them that I've said to you."

I looked over at Jasper, who was frowning slightly. "I do."

I growled. Was that all he was going to say? Especially when I just acknowledged that I'm not very nice to him? His calmness really, really pissed me off.

He felt my sudden mood swing, and he eyed me cautiously. "Why are you feeling so angry?" he asked hesitantly.

"Because!" I shouted. Jasper jumped, startled by my outburst. I couldn't think of a way to put what I was feeling into words, so I just sat there, fuming. Jasper stared at me with that same worried look in his eyes.

After a while, I felt waves of calm start to sweep through my body. Jasper. He sent them slowly at first, testing me to see if I'd flip out. When they got stronger, I did. "Stop. Messing. With. My. Head. Right. Now. You. Freak."

He got up and started to walk away slowly, but not before I saw the look in his eyes. The only time I've ever seen anything sadder was when I saw how Alice reacted when she foresaw him killing himself. He looked like he didn't know whether to finally snap and rip my head off or melt into a quivering blob on the ground and cry. It was also evident in his face that he was trying, but failing, to hide his pain from me.

"Jasper," I whispered.

He stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Jasper," I repeated, my voice a little bit stronger. "Wait."

He turned his head toward me. "Why?" he mumbled miserably. "So you can hurt my feelings some more?"

"No!" I insisted.

"Then why?"

"Because I want you to," I said.

He hesitated, then shuffled slowly back to his original spot next to me. "I don't think that's true, but I'll humor you," he said quietly.

"Would I have told you not to leave if I didn't mean it?" I asked, not feeling sure of the answer myself. I knew that he could interpret that uncertainty in one of two ways: either that I wasn't sure about what he would say, or, even worse, that I didn't even know the answer to that question.

I could tell from the look on his face that he read it the worse way. "Possibly," he sighed.

There was an awkward silence. The two of us weren't exactly on the best terms with each other, so we didn't even know how to hold an actual conversation.

"Are you going to give me an answer?" he asked.

"About what?" I said, slightly annoyed.

"Why did you stop me? What would you care if I disappeared?"

"That's a stupid question," I snapped.

"No, Rosalie, it's not. You make me wonder sometimes," he said gravely.

"Don't you think that wanted you to go away, I wouldn't have put up with you for this long?" I asked. I immediately regretted it.

The broken look returned to his face. "So that's how you feel about me? It's just a matter of putting up with me? Nothing more?" he accused.

I backtracked. "No, Jasper, that's not what I meant. Stop twisting my words!"

"I wasn't twisting your words. I repeating your own words back to you!" he exclaimed, jumping up from his spot. He walked a few steps away and started to pace back and forth.

"Yeah, but…" I paused and he looked at me expectantly. "That's not what I meant!"

He crossed his arms. "What did you mean, Rosalie? That you hate spending time with me? That I'm nothing to you?"

"That's not what I said!" I nearly shouted.

"I know that's not what you said! But after hearing you belittle me time and time again, I can't help but believe…" He started off nearly shouting, but the farther he got into this statement, the more he tapered off.

"Believe what?" I snapped.

"That I hadn't become a part of the family. Or that I wouldn't have stayed a part of it. That Carlisle would've let me go that time I tried to run away after I slipped up. That I would've… succeeded… when I almost…"

He was unable to continue, but I knew exactly where he was going with that statement. "How DARE you say that? How dare you say that I would rather that you would've followed through with your stupid plan to kill yourself?" I shrieked. I jumped to my feet in anger. "Didn't I tell you how much that would affect us?"

"Yes, you did. And I feel remorse greater than you could ever imagine because of that event. But you fail to mention how much that day also affected _me_. But you don't want to think about my feelings, do you? You'd rather just squash them," he said, his voice heavy with guilt at first, and then sadness. He stopped pacing and stared down at the ground.

"Jasper, would you cut me some slack?" I cried. "I'm having a bad day! When I'm upset, that's when I say these things! I'm not normally that bad!"

"That's not at all true!" he shot back angrily. "You slander me even when you're feeling happy! But even if what you're saying were true, that's no excuse! I don't go around spewing hate and misery onto others when I'm having a bad day! Nothing you've gone through recently could justify your actions!"

"How could you say that? You don't understand any of the things that I've gone through!" I screeched.

I could see a fire in his eyes the likes of which I'd never seen before. "I don't understand? You don't think I understand pain?" he shouted. "Suffering? Sadness? Regret? I think I more than anyone understand what you're feeling! I feel it from you every day! And believe me, I'm no stranger to suffering, either! Or did you miss that part of my story? I know you've gone through some horrible things! You think you're the only one who felt betrayed by someone you loved? Well, I'm here to tell you that a little part of me felt that way when Peter left me alone with Maria. You think you were the only one who was raped? Maria would seize me, drag me into her chambers, and force me to pleasure her, even when I was severely wounded from battle! If I refused, she'd torture me until I had neither the strength nor the ability to fight back!" He saw me flinch, but he didn't stop. "Let me tell you something, princess. You're not the only one with problems. Has your egotism blinded you from seeing that? Are you simply ignorant to the fact that all of us have had fateful lives? Do you not understand that for me, the pain of everything I've gone through is so great that I have to struggle through each day? Then I have to bear the emotions of everyone else, and to top it all off, I have to deal with every last cruel insult, every horrible name that you can throw at me! I'd think that you would understand that it HURTS! It's hard enough for me without having to put up with grief from you! I don't know whether you do it because you just love to hate me or whether you want to make yourself feel big, but let me tell you something either way. THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOU! As much as you wish for it, as much as strive for attention, as much as you try to break others down, nothing will change that fact! NOTHING!"

Jasper fell to his knees and began to cry. I stood there in shock, not knowing what to say. On one hand, I was pissed that my brother would ever talk to me that way. That he'd call me ignorant, egotistical, and hateful. But on the other hand, I was proud. Proud that he'd finally decided to grow a pair and stand up to me instead of just taking my crap like he always did.

He continued crying for several minutes, and I just kept standing there, my mouth hanging open like an idiot. He finally moaned, "Why? Why do you do this to me?"

I felt like I was about to start crying, too. I had never questioned it before, but I was beginning to doubt myself. Why would I reduce someone else to this? Why would I upset Emmett by hurting his brother time and time again, even when I knew that it upset him? Why would I hurt my sister's husband? Why would I do this to someone who, despite everything that he had gone through, was never mean to anyone? Sure, he had his moments of crankiness, but he never insulted anyone, he never swore, raised his voice, or anything of the sort. Despite everything that was thrown at him, he was so grateful for everything that he still had that he never felt the need to lash out. I suddenly felt an emotion of a different kind filling me up. One that I had never realized was there.

Jasper picked up on my new emotional climate. He gasped, his facial expression showing pure shock. "Is that it…?"

Jealousy. I never knew that jealousy was the reason I did the things that I did. Until now. I sat back down on the log I was at earlier, trying to absorb this epiphany.

Jasper stared up at me. "But why? Why would you… be jealous of me…?"

"Because," I whispered. "You handle it so well…" I started to sob.

Jasper sat next to me and touched my shoulder. "Handle what?"

"It's just… you've been through… so much…" I choked. "But you're… so much more… accepting of everything… than I am. I wish… I wish I could be that way, too…"

"Rosalie," he sighed.

"My memories are only a fraction as bad as yours are. But still… I just don't know how to deal with them… How can you go through all the stuff that you have and not be bitter?"

"Rosalie," he said softly. "That's not fair."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because we're different people. We have different upbringings, different morals, different personalities, different coping mechanisms, and different pain tolerances. It would be unfair for you to expect yourself to handle your experiences the same way that I do."

"That shouldn't matter! I should be better! But I'm not!" I felt like I was a two-year-old all over again, throwing a tantrum when something didn't go my way.

"That's not true. It may be harder for you to cope than it is for me. You're healing at your own rate, and as long as you're healing, that's what matters."

Why the hell was he being so understanding? "Why aren't you just blowing me off and telling me that I'm weak and that I shouldn't be so upset about everything when I haven't gone through that much in the broad scheme of things?"

"Because you're not weak. Do I wish that you wouldn't justify lashing out at people by saying that you're having issues? Yes. Do I think it's very hypocritical of you to tell me to 'stop moping and get over it' when I'm feeling depressed, when you are incapable of doing that yourself? Absolutely. But I don't believe that makes you weak. Just a little misguided."

"But what about you? You look sad all the time and it's really obvious that you're struggling, but you never are mean to anyone. You don't even swear, for God's sake."

Jasper chuckled, though I didn't get the joke. "I don't really have it in me to be rude to people. At least not on purpose. I say some things I regret, but I can't think of a single person who doesn't."

"I've never heard you say anything like that," I disagreed. I couldn't hold back my feelings of curiosity.

"You think I don't regret calling myself a monster in front of people?"

"That doesn't count," I said.

"Yes, it most certainly does. There was one time in particular that I was feeling miserable, so I began to bring myself down, and it hurt Alice so much that she slapped me."

I gasped. I couldn't believe that anything like that actually happened, but I could tell from the pained look in his eyes that it did.

"You see," he pointed out, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm not as perfect as you think I am."

I began to feel a little bit relieved. I had always seen him as this nearly immaculate being with nearly endless patience and boundless mental strength. I had learned from his suicide attempt that he did have a breaking point, but I still knew that he was stronger than anyone else on the planet, and it made me jealous. "But you're so strong…" I breathed.

Jasper looked down and shook his head. "Strong is a relative term."

I wrinkled my forehead at his cryptic reply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that, in the matter of enduring traumatic experiences, I am stronger than you are. However, when it comes to resisting a human's scent, you are much, much stronger than I am. For that, I'm jealous of you."

Him? Jealous of me? Impossible! I mean, I thought I was a lot more attractive than he was, and I think anyone would be jealous of me for that. And I was much better with cars. Other than that, I was inferior. But the strange thing was that I no longer felt jealous. I had known all along that he was flawed, and just hearing him say it was just what I needed.

He felt my confidence grow a little, and he flashed me a sheepish smile. He sent me waves of reassurance, slowly, cautiously, to make sure that I wasn't going to explode on him like I did last time. I didn't. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I remembered that he skirted around the one question I had wanted him to answer from the beginning. "Jasper?" I asked.

"Yes, Rosalie?" he replied.

"If I ask you a question, will you give me a real answer this time?"

"That depends," he said, a slightly teasing smile making its way onto his face. "What is it?"

"Why did you bring me hunting with you?"

Jasper thought for a minute before he finally found the words to express what he was feeling. "I couldn't stand to see you suffer anymore. I hoped that if I could get you alone, I could at least convince you to confide in me a little bit."

I was shocked. We'd never had a very open relationship. Besides, I can't remember ever trying to help him feel better. "But why? Why do you care how I'm feeling? Why are you being so nice to me?"

I could tell from the way that he was acting that he was too shy to say what he was feeling, so I said, "Spit it out."

He hesitated, then said, "Well… if you must know… despite all of the things that you've said and done to me, that never once has stopped me from loving you as if you were my own sister. Ever since I met you, I could perceive that you were suffering, and I've wanted so badly to be the big brother that you can confide in and rely on. Even though you've made it clear how you feel about me, I have never given up on that dream."

At this point, I turned into a blubbering idiot. Jasper was able to see past all of the hate and judgment I'd dealt him, and he had given me the gift of love. It was much more than I deserved.

It was amazing, given his violent background, how gentle he was. I had always perceived him as aloof and unapproachable, but I realized that was his way of protecting himself. I just grossly underestimated how much love he had to give. He wrapped his arm around me and comforted me while I cried. No, comforted isn't the right word. A better word would be reassured. Without even saying a word, he reassured me that he would always be there for me. A part of me wondered how he was capable of doing this, and a part of me was still jealous. But I realized that he could do it because he's Jasper. The more I thought about it, the more comfortable I was with that explanation. There was no sense in questioning it. Jasper was a strange creature indeed, and I suddenly felt a rush of pride to know that he was my brother. That he was pretending to be my twin. That he was sharing my last name, which was something that I had never before been happy about. I felt for the first time that we'd be able to coexist without constantly being at odds with each other.

I asked him later to go into greater detail about why he kept up his dream. He smiled and said, "It's so easy to combat hatred with hatred. It's a great deal harder to forgive. However, it's worth the extra effort in the end."

At first, I didn't quite grasp the meaning of this. What part of sitting there and taking insults from me was worth it? Slowly but surely, I found that he'd rather do this than fight back and risk hurting me. That realization was almost more than I could bear.

He has become my friend and confidant, even when he had every reason to hate me. He sees the good in me, even when no one else can. Even though it sometimes makes the others think he's crazy. He understands me, and he counsels me when I don't know where else to turn. I've asked him to let me help him in return, but he simply shakes his head and says that I've helped him enough already. I can't decide whether or not he's telling the truth, but he seems happier. I have to confess that I do too. And I'm proud to say that I owe it all to Jasper for teaching me how to cope.


End file.
